And Here We Go Again: More UsaxMamo Drabble Love
by Ala Verity
Summary: Who knew a relationship could be so complicated? Now, from vowed enemies to eternal sweethearts, these two lovers celebrate their UsaxMamo LJ 2nd Anniversary Challenge. Sweet and to the point, these drabbles offer quick reads that are anything but drab.
1. Paper: Paper Beginnings

Ala Verity strikes back again!

And once again, her hands are empty of the fics she's supposed to be working on cue awkward shifting and digging of the toe in her very dirty dorm floor.

But never fear! That's what _these_ babies are for: Appeasement! Enjoy!

Written for the UsakoxMamoru second anniversary challenge at Livejournal (see profile for link—ends 3 August 2008!) Hope everyone will take the time to take a look and/or join, because the entries are bound to be excellent this year!

And mind you, these are written under time constraints--just in case anyone's wondering where the rigorous editing disappeared to this time. :)

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35 Themed Drabbles—2nd Anniversary Challenge

Ala Verity

1. _Paper_ (Word Count: 478)

* * *

"Hey! Watch where you throw your trash, pigtails!"

It started with a wad of paper.

"Maybe if your head wasn't so big, it wouldn't be hit by every single object that came flying its way!"

"Maybe if you didn't try to kill every innocent man who walked by—"

"_Innocent_? HA!"

It grew with an awful nickname.

"An F? Do you have any brains beneath all that hair, Odango? Hey, that suits you! _Odango_!"

"Why, you conniving little—"

"_Odango, Odango, Odango_…"

It thrived with two secret desires.

"You don't have to be so mean about it! What did I ever do to _you_, you baka? I don't even _know_ you!"

"I don't know—it might just be the fact that you _exist_ that does it—"

_—that makes my world go round._

"I hate you!"

_—I love you._

It blossomed with endless disappointments and hopes.

"Odango, I—"

"Yes?"

"I…I see that you got another F today. Talk about a waste of an education."

"…_Baka_! I hate you, I _hate_ you! I never want to talk to you again!"

It strengthened with unspoken vows into an unbreakable bond.

"Mamoru, you—"

"Yes?"

"…Mamoru-baka, you make my head hurt just looking at you."

"Yeah, well, right back at you."

But in the end…

"What is it?"

"Just take it."

"Wait, Odango—_hey_! Come back here, you little brat!"

"What did you do to her this time, Mamoru? You know that she has a hard enough time in school as it is without your constant insults—"

"It's not that, Motoki."

"No?"

"No." He held up the crinkled sheet of paper in his hand. "Because she…she just got an A."

"Usagi-chan? No way! She—is that really an _A_?"

"What are you acting so surprised for, Motoki? You look like you never thought Usagi could do it."

"Well, yeah, I know what I—wait, why aren't _you_ looking shocked, Mamoru? I thought you of all people would have thought it was a fluke!"

Right. He was supposed to hate her. He was supposed lie through his teeth and not feel anything.

"…Of course I think so, Motoki! Just because I'm not an emotional aerial like you, doesn't mean I don't think she bribed her teacher. I mean, how else could Odango possibly get such a good grade? She hasn't got a single working brain cell in her entire head!"

"Your apathy never fails to amaze me, Mamoru."

He smiled and shook his head. "No, what's amazing…"

_…what's amazing is that she chose to show it to _me,_ Chiba Mamoru…the luckiest man on Earth_.

"What's amazing, Mamoru?"

"…Nothing. Come on, Motoki, I'm in a good mood. Let me buy you a cup of coffee and we'll discuss the miracles wreaked by the Queen of Disaster."

…Even in the end, it was still a wad of paper that started it all.

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the first of the set, because there are sure to be more to come! Don't forget to leave me feedback and, for goodness' sake, go to the Livejournal community and vote for your favorites!

Cheers, Ala


	2. Cotton: Curse That Cotton!

Author's Pick of the Whenever: If you haven't seen it already, _go see Dark Knight_ in a movie theater near you. Trust me, it's worth every cent you pay to get in.

And for Pete's sake, people (er, politely speaking)—I appreciate all of your tacit support, but really…if you're going to read these drabbles, it would be nice to see some feedback as well: you know, loved it, hated it, liked this or that one better. Believe you me, written criticism is a _lot_ more effective than unspoken criticism. Seriously.

* * *

35 Themed Drabbles—2nd Anniversary Challenge

Ala Verity

2. _Cotton_

_Drabble #1_ (Word Count: 618)

* * *

"But I don't _want_ polyester."

"I'm very sorry, sir, but all we have is what you see in the store today. And we happened to receive a very large shipment of polyester yesterday."

"I'll only take cotton."

"But sir, we won't be importing another shipment of cotton wares until next month at the earliest. It's simply not profitable at the time being to—"

"Oh, it's profitable, all right."

"Excuse me?"

"I assure you that I can make it very worth your while if you order the cotton goods and have them ready for me to pick up by tomorrow at noon."

"Sir, I do not think that will be possible—"

"Then let me show you how I am going to make it very possible for you. I will pay double the price you are asking for, including shipment costs and another other inconveniences it might cause you. I will buy out your store. I will buy every single damn polyester product on the face of the earth if that is the only way to get that cotton shipment. I will give you enough money to see your children and your grandchildren and your great-grandchildren through college while you are in the sauna of your summer resort in Jamaica on permanent retirement from this damned job, and I will do it by taking out this little blue book that will change your entire life with the simple signing of a name. But I _will_ have it, understood?"

"…Y-yes, sir. I understand."

"Good. Now when can I come in to pick up that order?"

"I—I think we have one last box in the back with the item you are looking for, if you would just give me a moment t-to—"

"Take your time. And Araki-san?"

"Ye-yes…?"

"The service here is absolutely impeccable. I will be sure to visit again soon."

"Th-thank you, sir, for your gulp wonderful patronage."

* * *

"Oh…Mamo-chan! It's lovely!" Usagi lifted the pink teddy from its box and held it up in front of her. "Where did you get it? Ooh, it looks expensive!"

Mamoru smiled and draped one arm around his wife's shoulder, pulling her up close against him. "Just a little something I picked up along the way for you."

"Ohh, I love it—wait until the girls hear what a romantic second anniversary celebration we've had! The candlelit dinner, the serenade on the beach, this gift—oh, _thank_ you, Mamo-chan! It's perfect!"

He smiled and brushed his lips lightly against her forehead. "Happy anniversary, Usako."

"Happy anniversary, Mamo-chan!"

They sat side by side on the pink plush couch for a moment in silence, the light from the cheerily roaring fireplace dancing across their faces as Usagi pressed her cheek against Mamoru's warm chest.

"Mamo-chan?" she murmured at last, peering contentedly up at him through demure eyes.

"Hmm?"

"How did you…" Usagi toyed coyly with a long strand of her golden hair. "I mean, did you really remember that I was allergic to polyester, even after all these years?"

"The thought never even crossed my mind."

"_Mamo-chan!_"

Mamoru chuckled and lifted her chin so that he could draw in the warmth of her expression. "I guess I thought about it a little bit, then. Maybe."

"Only maybe?"

"Yes. Maybe."

"Oh…Oh."

Mamoru bent over until their noses were nearly touching and whispered, "But I think that was just because I was too busy thinking about what we would do with that gift _after_ you got it."

Usagi's eyes went wide.

"_Oh_," was all she could say.

And that was all she needed to say. She looked ravishing in her pink cotton teddy that night.

At least, while she was still wearing it.

* * *

_Drabble #2_ (Word Count: 551)

"Just shove some cotton-balls into it."

"_Mako-chan!_"

The tall brunette shrugged. "Hey, the way I see it, it's just a bunch of rags sewn together with stuffing inside. I could make a new one for you in a jiffy—"

"I don't _want_ a new one, Mako-chan!" Usagi exclaimed, looking scandalized. "This is the Tuxedo Kamen doll Mam—I mean, that I won at the fair! You can't replace it just like that!"

Makoto raised an eyebrow at her friend, who was clutching the deflated superhero doll tightly in both hands. "Remind me again, which game exactly did you win it at?"

"I told you already, it was…erm, whack-a-mole! Yeah! Whack-a-mole! Er…that _is_ what I said last time, right?"

"Riiiight." When Usagi continued to look at her with eyes wider than an expectant puppy's, she shrugged her shoulders again. "Well, I don't know what you want me to do, Usagi-chan. The only thing I can think of is buying some of that woven cotton, it's better quality and bound to last longer than regular cotton-balls, but it's bound to be expens—"

Usagi's face brightened. "Great! I'll do that, then. Where can I get this, er, woven cotton?"

After Makoto had pointed her friend in the right direction, and after Usagi had skipped off with the dangly-headed Tuxedo Kamen in hand, humming happily to herself as she pranced down the street, Makoto let out the shout of laughter that she had been holding back. She watched her friend disappear around the corner with a smug feeling of satisfaction, and was still standing at the arcade entrance when Minako walked in, looking slightly bewildered.

"Mako-chan?"

"Oh, hey Minako!"

"I just passed by Usagi-chan on the street," the blonde remarked, passing off a box full of pastries to Makoto and peering down the street in the direction Usagi had darted off in. "She didn't even notice me at all! _And_ I was carrying her favorite—chocolate cream-filled eclairs. You don't think something's wrong, do you?"

"Nope. She's just gone to the store to buy some cotton stuffing to fix up her Tuxedo Kamen doll with."

"Usagi-chan, mending things?" Minako swooned dramatically into the nearest seat. "What has the world come to?"

"She squeezed it too hard."

Minako grinned. "Fantasizing about a certain superhero again, is she? I've told her time and time again, Tuxedo Kamen has definitely got the hots for her, but will she listen? Nooo—"

"You know, I don't think this is about him anymore."

Minako quirked an eyebrow at her friend. "No?"

"Nope. I think this has to do with something else."

"And what's that?"

Makoto's face broke into a grin as she turned towards the door, through which a familiar-looking figure had just entered the cool arcade. "Let's just say that Usagi's about as good at playing whack-a-mole as she is at lying. Let's go ask Mamoru where she _really_ got the doll from, shall we?"

They both chortled and made a beeline for the man in the hideous green jacket sitting at the counter, prepared to extort some confessions from him before his afternoon cup of coffee had time to really kick in and keep him from saying something that he would really regret the next day when the girls ran to Usagi with their newfound gossip.

* * *

Only three words…

…Why so SERIOUS?

(Cheers.)


	3. Leather: Holy Cow!

35 Themed Drabbles—2nd Anniversary Challenge

Ala Verity

3. _Leather_ (Word Count: 922)

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"—an authentic pink leather loveseat in pristine condition, imported from Italy—"

"We'll take it."

"Mamo-chan?"

"How much is it?"

"Mamo-chan."

"Er…does that price include sales tax?" Mamoru asked, desperately trying to ignore the tiny fingers drilling a hole into his elbow from somewhere next to him. In his head, a silent mantra played over and over like the droning chant of a monk—_anything but that, don't let it be that, please don't be that, anything but—_

"Mamo-chan, _we need to talk_."

…the talk. Mamoru turned around to face his wife, suppressing the sardonic grimace that had managed to slap itself across his face.

"I'd _love_ to talk to you…_dear_."

"Don't give me that 'dear' crap—er, dear. Oh for _heaven's sake_, Mamo-chan, just come here for a second!"

"What is it?" Mamoru demanded as soon as they were out of earshot of the salesman, who was shooting sympathetic looks Mamoru's way every five and a half seconds or so.

Usagi made a face at him. "Mamo-chan, we can't buy that couch."

"I thought we both agreed that we wanted it."

"Yes," Usagi replied, her expression earnest, "but that was _before_ I found out what it was made out of."

"Why? What is it made out of?"

"Leather."

"Er…yes, and…?"

"It's _cow skin_," Usagi declared dramatically.

Mamoru raised his eyebrow at her. "Did you just realize that?"

There was a pause. Usagi bore drills into her husband's eyes. Mamoru cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Usako," he finally said, summoning the courage to break the frosty, thicker-than-Wonderbra-padding silence, "Why is this suddenly a problem? We buy leather goods all the time. These shoes are leather, my wallet is leather, the only thing that isn't leather on my body is…well, a lot, but there's a lot of leather, too!"

Usagi blew the bangs out of her face. "_You_ buy leather goods, Mamo-chan. And it's a "problem" because I don't want to spend the rest of my life sitting on a _cow_! It's inhumane, not to mention plain revolting! I don't care if your _underwear_ was made of leather—"

Mamoru grinned. "_Really?_"

"Okay, no, I lied, I do," Usagi amended hastily, and Mamoru's wicked grin widened, "But I am not going to participate in this…this _slaughter_!"

"Usako, dear," he said, an amused smile playing at the corner of his lips, "I'm glad that you don't find the thought of me looking like Tarzan in a nightclub flattering, but you are going to have to give me a very good reason not to buy this couch, because we have been talking to this sales representative for well over an hour and are _this_ close—" He held up his fingers a millimeter apart in front of her nose, "—to sealing the deal with him over this couch that, only a few minutes ago, you were so adamant about buying."

"I'll give you _three_ reasons."

"Try me."

"Reason one. If you buy a leather couch, I assure you that you are going to get very comfy in it. _Very_."

"Wait a second, I'm not sleeping on—"

"Reason two!" Usagi continued loudly.

Mamoru looked at his wife expectantly, the grimace reassuming its position with a vengeance; but of course, Tsukino Usagi was always one step ahead of the game.

The old man in the store looking for a new oak dresser to replace the rotting one his great-grandfather had given him fifty years ago nearly choked on his dentures as he watched the petite blonde standing in the couch section grab the tall young man standing next to her by the back of the neck…and kiss the living daylights out of him, right in the middle of the furniture store.

By the time they emerged from their public spectacle, Mamoru's face was brighter than the vivid pink loveseat they were supposed to be buying.

"What—" Mamoru gasped, hurrying to loosen his tie. "And what—what's the third reason again?"

"Reason three," Usagi whispered, grabbing the hand on his tie and pulling him in so close he could feel her feathery-soft bangs brush against his cheek, "—will have to wait until we get home and onto our brand new, non-leather couch tonight. Don't you think?"

And rubbing one long, bare leg briefly against his pant leg, she pushed him lightly towards the sales representative, who was goggling at the pair of them.

"YOU!" Mamoru shouted at the salesman as soon as he had recovered enough to speak.

"Er…s-sir?"

"I'll take this non-leather couch."

"Are you sure? The leather one is very—"

"I'm sure. And is there any way you can get an express delivery on that shipment? I would really like to make lo—I mean, make this lovely _love_seat a part of my home décor as soon as possible."

Usagi beamed at Mamoru and placed a tender hand on his waist. He felt his face burn up, and kicked off his leather shoes.

"On second thought, we'll just take this couch with us now."

And shoving his bulging leather wallet into the salesman's hand, Mamoru scooped his wife up with one deft arm, gripped the couch in the other, and dragged his two valuables out the door with him, knocking over the leather couch on the way out.

As the automatic doors drifted shut behind them, the salesman could hear an amused voice drifting back into the air-conditioned store, "And I bet you thought I just wanted to talk."

And an equally audible retort: "I hope you like leather underwear, Usako."


	4. Appliances: Three Stoves and a Chef

A bit on the long side, but I'm still working on the submitting-as-many-drabbles-as-possible-by-August-3rd part…

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35 Themed Drabbles—2nd Anniversary Challenge

Ala Verity

4. _Appliances_ (Word Count: 1199)

* * *

"But…but what the heck are we going to do with _three_ stoves?"

Ami patted Usagi consolingly on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'll figure something out."

"_I_ could always use another stove."

"Mako-chan!"

"I'm just saying…"

"Don't worry so much," Minako advised her friend, who was staring aghast at the three stoves lined up neatly in the middle of her living room. "You've got a smart hubby, I'm sure he'll be able to think of—"

"Usako, I'm home! Usako? Are the girls here yet?"

"We're in here!" Rei called.

"Hi, girls," Mamoru said, appearing in the doorway a moment later with a heavy-looking box in his arms and a slightly hassled look on his face. "Usako, your Aunt Em has just sent us another paper shredder, I think she wants us to cut down an entire rainforest or some—what the hell is all _this_?"

For Mamoru had just spotted the three stoves, gleaming innocently up at him in their fresh new coats of ivory paint.

"_Shi_—" The box dropped from his arms with a loud _clunk_. "What are—?"

"My parents, Motoki, and my cousin all sent them this morning," Usagi replied glumly, kicking the brand new carpet with her toe. "They're belated wedding presents."

"And what the hell are we going to do with three damn st—" He stopped at the sullen look on Usagi's face. "Ohh-kay, let's backtrack here," he said slowly, tripping his way through the cluttered room to his wife's side. He looked around the room. "Girls, a moment?"

There was a chorus of "sure's," and the girls filed out of the room.

"Okay, Usako, what's wrong?" Mamoru asked as soon as Ami had shut the door behind her.

"Everything's fine," Usagi muttered, sinking into the couch.

"You're about as good at lying as you used to be at cooking, Usako."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Scoot over so I can sit down."

"Hey!" She laughed as he nearly sat on top of her. "Fatty!"

Mamoru wrapped his arms around his wife. "It's your fault you finally learned how to cook an edible meal."

"Excuse me! And what's that supposed to mean? My meals have _always_ been edible—"

"Yeah, if you tried rat poison first…"

"_Chiba Mamoru, if you make one more comment about my cooking—"_ She caught sight of the stoves and stopped short, swallowing hard.

"Honey, what's really wrong?" he asked again, pulling her closer to him. He could feel the heat from her flushed face where it rested against his chest. "I have a feeling this isn't just about your cooking."

"I told you, nothing's wrong," she murmured.

"Come on, Usako, work with me here."

She sighed again and buried her face into his shirt. "I'm just tired, Mamo-chan. We've been married for barely two weeks, we've just gotten back from our honeymoon, we're still trying to get everything in order, and every time I think we've got everything we need, five more things show up that need taking care of!" She shifted slightly so that she could look up at him. "I just want a break, Mamo-chan. Just a day to myself, that's all I want."

She glared accusingly at the stoves sitting in front of her, as if the giant porcelain statues were responsible for all of her troubles.

"Well, if it's a day that you want," Mamoru said at last, slowly, "I can do you one better."

"What do you mean, Mamo-chan?"

"What I mean is, who's to say we don't need three stoves?" He stood up and made a sweeping gesture at the kitchen appliances. "We could keep all three, one in each room so it won't feel too crowded."

"But Mamo-chan," Usagi said, sitting up a little bit straighter, "What are we going to need three stoves for? We have barely enough room in this apartment for the two of us!"

"Well," Mamoru replied with a smile, kneeling down so that he and Usagi were face to face, "Every princess needs her royal chef, right?"

Usagi's eyes brightened a bit, and she nodded.

"And what royal chef doesn't need three stoves?" he continued, getting caught up in the game. "If I'm going to make a seven-course meal and one of the stoves is occupied, or if my princess wants breakfast in bed straight from the stovetop, what better way than to keep than to have a stove right where you need it?"

Mamoru took her warm hands in his, and at that moment, he looked at her with an expression so full of sincerity and gratitude that Usagi thought her heart would burst.

"Usako, you should know that this isn't about the useless stoves we have, or the appliances or anything. We'll find a place for everything in our life, and pretty soon you're going to forget all about the stove that your cousin sent or that food processor from the thrift shop or even Aunt Em's damn paper shredders. Okay, Usako?"

"Mamo-chan…" She suddenly jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, and he caught her with a surprised look. "Mamo-chan…" she whispered into his shirt, "Thank you…thank you, Mamo-chan…"

They stood there for a long time, in the middle of the living room, him supporting the weight of their embrace against one of the stoves.

"Mamo-chan?" Usagi said finally.

"Hmm?"

"You were…serious about that whole seven-course meal thing, weren't you?"

Mamoru stared at his wife for a second, his arms wrapped around her waist and his expression blank…

…And burst into laughter.

"Hey! What are you laughing for?"

"N-nothing!"

"Mamo-chan, if you were just toying with me—"

"Now, do you really think I would do that, Usako?" Mamoru asked, leaning in so suddenly that she could feel his warm breath against her lips.

"N-no…" she whispered, gazing up at him demurely.

"Good." Mamoru kissed her lightly on the nose and pulled back, grinning. "Now what would you like for your fine cuisine tonight, my princess?"

Usagi pulled him back down by the collar of his shirt and breathed, "How about we start with some appetizer…_chef_?"

Mamoru's eyes went wide, and the room suddenly felt as hot as if someone had turned all three stoves on at once, even though none of them were plugged in.

"I hope it works up my appetite, if you know what I mean," she added, running one finger down his chest.

"I…I know exactly the thing," Mamoru gasped, wiping sweaty palms against his pants leg.

"Good. Now go get 'em, tiger."

"Huh?"

She turned him around by the shoulders and pushed him towards the door, laughing at the bewildered look on her husband's face. "You said you know just the thing, right? Well then, don't just stand there! You're going to have to get started now if you want to be done by a reasonable hour!"

And with that, she opened the door, shoved him out into the hallway, and shut the door behind him.

Mamoru stared at the closed living room door for a long time before finally turning towards the kitchen, muttering under his breath about women in general and leaving Usagi to laugh quietly in the room with the three stoves in it.

* * *

Feedback, comments, and critiques are all welcome!

Ala


	5. Wood: A WoodenFaced Man's Nightmare

35 Themed Drabbles—2nd Anniversary Challenge

Ala Verity

5. _Wood_ (Word Count: 1224)

* * *

"—drawn from the eucalyptus tree, whose wood—"

Snicker.

"…eucalyptus tree, whose wood we can use to—"

Titter.

"—_whose wood we can use to craft such objects as are most commonly—"_

Giggles.

"Okay, what the _hell_ is going on?" Mamoru roared, slamming the book in his hand on the table in front of him and making five girls shaking with silent laughter look up in surprise.

"What's wrong, Mamoru?" Minako asked, still chuckling through a mouthful of chocolate raisins.

"Yeah, Mamoru-baka, what's the matter?" Usagi snorted. "Geez, can't you go one second without being rude?"

"_I'm_ being rude?" Mamoru demanded indignantly, looking around at the bunch of middle-schoolers crowded around his usually peaceful corner booth. "_You're_ the ones who dragged me away from my own history exam studies and coerced me into teaching you about plant biology!"

"Yeah, and you've done a lousy job of it," Makoto remarked, raising her eyebrow at him. "How are we supposed to learn if all you do is keep droning on?"

"How am I supposed to teach you if all you girls do is break out into laughter at every other word I say? And why _are_ you all laughing, anyway?"

The five girls exchanged significant looks, trying to keep their faces straight.

"Nothing," Usagi said, grinning from ear to ear.

"None of your business," Minako piped up.

"Nothing that needs saying out loud, anyway," Rei added with a chortle.

"Hey guys—_Wood_," Makoto whispered loudly, and they all broke down into another fit of giggles.

"Well, well, well," Mamoru said, a wicked grin spreading slowly across his face as the cause of their giggles suddenly dawned on him. "And here I was thinking you were just a bunch of innocent middle-schoolers."

"Pshh…" Usagi waved him aside with her straw, spraying his face with flecks of chocolate shake. "You wouldn't understand, baka. Your head's too thick."

"Wanna bet?" Mamoru guffawed silently as he watched the blonde lean over to whisper something to her friend, then straighten up again and laugh. Somewhere along the way, by some inexplicable twist of fate, they had managed to turn a plant biology lesson into one on human biology…and Odango of all people thought—oh, wait until Motoki heard about this one!

'That's right," Mamoru mused as he propped his chin up on his hand, observing the four giggling girls. 'Odango absolutely adores him—I could definitely use that to get her to—'

_To do what? _a nagging voice in the back of his mind drawled. _Get her to go on a date with you? Tell you she really doesn't hate you?_

'—to get back at her for her jibe about my jacket yesterday," Mamoru told himself firmly, pushing the other intruding thoughts to the back of his mind for later inspection.

"Ohh, Odango!"

Usagi abruptly stopped mid-laughter and turned at the sound of his singsong voice. "What?"

"Wood."

The four girls around Usagi tittered, but she did not stir.

"What do you want?" she demanded again.

He leaned in closer and whispered, "You heard me. _Wood_."

"Wh-what about it?"

Mamoru started to get up from his seat. "I'm telling Motoki."

"W-wait!" A small hand grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back down. Despite the coolness of the arcade, Mamoru could see that Usagi's face had flushed a becoming shade of bright pink, and her palms glittered with a thin layer of sweat. He smirked.

"Usagi thinks—"

"No, you can't—"

"_Wood_—"

"I don't—"

"_Odango thinks that wood is_—"

"That is IT!" Mamoru's head shot up in surprise as the girl sitting directly across from him slammed her hand against the table, causing the salt and pepper shakers to quiver in their metal dispensers. "Mamoru-baka, I am not playing your stupid games anymore! So stop thinking you can manipulate me with your dumb mind tricks this time, because it's not going to work!"

"H-hey, hang on," Mamoru protested as Usagi suddenly stood up and scrambled on top of the table. "Get off of there, you idiot, you'll fa—"

"I LOVE OLIVER WOOD!" she shrieked.

Mamoru looked up at the figure towering over him (taking care to keep his eyes away from the billowing of her skirt), and for a moment felt his head reeling as if he had just been clobbered by a massive bludgeon.

"Wait, you mean…you didn't mean—Never mind, Odango, just get down from the table, you're going to—"

"_Whooooaa!_"

_Crash_.

"…fall. Oh shit."

Mamoru looked down with horrified eyes at the figure sprawled across his lap as the arcade erupted into cheers of "Gryffindor! Gryffindor!"

"Wood," Usagi murmured dazedly from where her face was smashed against his stomach.

Mamoru blushed, hard.

Then he promptly cursed himself for his poor choice in words—"hard" being the operative word.

"Mamoru-baka?"

His face, if possible, turned redder at the rising heat permeating his body, especially a certain part of it…

Of course, "rising" was probably not the best word to be using at the moment, either.

"Mamoru-baka? Hello? Earth to Mamoru-baka!"

He cringed and shook his head. "What?"

"Geez, finally! Where have _you_ been?"

Mamoru decided that was a rhetorical question and ignored it, willing the flush to creep away from his face. Maybe she wouldn't notice…

"And why is your face so red, Mam—wait a second…"

Usagi's eyes went wide, and so did Mamoru's. She couldn't suspect…she wouldn't…

"You!" she whispered.

"N-no, wait," he began, holding up his hands in what was quickly becoming desperation—if she found out what he had been thinking, along what train of thought his mind had been running… "I can explain, Odango!"

Usagi's face split into a wide grin, and Mamoru braced himself for the next words that would lead to his eternal humiliation.

"You_…"_

This was the end of his life as he knew it. He would have to change identities, change lives…maybe move to Oklahoma, he didn't mind dust storms and a whole lot of nothingness so much anyway…

"_You like Oliver Wood too_!" she shouted triumphantly.

"I—" Mamoru blanched. "I what?"

"HA! I knew it!" she shrieked, toppling off her seat with a sudden burst of laughter. "I knew it from the moment we started talking about it that you liked him!"

"I don't—"

"You do!"

"What I mean is—"

"What _do_ you mean?" Usagi asked, her flashing eyes daring him to contradict her.

"I…what I mean is…"

"Yes?"

"…What I mean is I do like him, but I prefer Cedric Diggory."

"…"

"Never mind. You wouldn't understand"

"You're crazy."

"No, I'm not."

"Oliver Wood's better."

"Says you."

"Well, you like men."

"Okay, maybe a little bit."

"Weirdo."

Usagi stood up with a wicked grin and whispered, "Wood!" Then she shot out of the booth and did a little jig that forced a couple at the counter to run for cover behind the jukebox.

Just when Mamoru thought he could finally let the heat drain from his face without further humiliation, Makoto leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Hey, Mamoru."

"What?"

She shot him a sickeningly saccharine smile. "I won't tell Usagi-chan that the guy who plays Oliver Wood's name is Sean…_Biggerstaff_."

Mamoru choked, and promptly dove under the table to find the napkin that was still sitting folded neatly on the tabletop.

* * *


	6. Wool: Bah Bah, Black Sheep

Hello, everyone! It's been a long while since I've taken out the time to write an Author's Note, so bear with me while I take a moment from your incredibly precious reading time.

Life's been throwing some curve balls over the past few months (and doing an incredible job pegging my head with them), which might help explain the back-up on my other set of Usako and Mamoru drabbles, as well as my latest fic, "Notebooks." I do apologize for the lag, but I'm not particularly sorry about it--sometimes, what can you do? Everybody needs to take a step back to get their bearings in order every once in a while. School's starting with more credits than I've ever taken before, I have volunteer work and a job on my plate, and on top of all that, I have some personal issues to wrestle with. In comparison, writing is kind of getting slipped in here and there through the cracks.

That being _said_, however: I'm glad to announce that the system has rebooted (in a manner of speaking)! I've been receiving so much warm feedback lately that I don't know how to thank you guys for it, but thank you bundles for everyone who has taken the time to simply ask a question or make a comment about what they read. It really does give some incentive to this whole writing thing. Right now, I'm halfway through the next chapter of "Notebooks," and I'm planning on alternating between the two drabble sets, to give different groups of readers a chance to revel in the updates. -yay-

So that's it! Thanks for listening, and I hope you guys enjoy the drabble!

* * *

35 Themed Drabbles—2nd Anniversary Challenge

Ala Verity

6. _Wool_ (Word Count: 1210)

* * *

Mamoru looked from the angelic visage of his wife next to him, to the face contorted with murderous intention halfway across the room, to the beaming expression of Mrs.—no, _Mama_ Ikuko—and back at his wife again. He gulped hard and raised his eyes to his new mother with a forced smile.

"Thank you for the socks, Ikuko-M-Mama."

Mama, if possible, beamed even more brilliantly at him. On her other side, Tsukino Kenji—for he didn't yet allow Mamoru to call him "Papa"—if possible, deepened his glare.

But Mamoru didn't think that was quite possible. He would drop dead any second now from his father-in-law's Stare of Death.

"You're welcome…Mamoru-chan," Ikuko-Mama said warmly, her face aglow with joy. "I'm glad you like them."

"Erm…v-very much, thank…you…" He held up the gray wool socks with what he hoped was a gesture of son-like affection, but used the opportunity to duck behind the footwear and hiss to his wife, who was sitting on the ground by the Christmas tree with an oblivious smile spread across her face, "Why is your dad looking at me like that?"

"Doesn't he always?" Usagi whispered out of the corner of her mouth, her contented smile never once faltering.

"Well, yeah," he murmured, pretending to brush some pine needles away from her feet and using the opportunity to lean closer to his wife. "But when I opened your mom's present just now, he looked like he wanted to kill somebody. Er, kill me, I mean."

"Who else would he want to kill?" Usagi asked, fiddling with a loose strand of her hair—Mamoru had to shove one sock into each hand to keep himself from reaching out and toying with her silky golden locks.

He was just about to open his voice and reply that she could show a _little_ more compassion for the fate of her newlywed husband in the hands of her father when a loud voice cut him off.

"This is _not_ whisper-whisper time, _boy_."

"Oh, Daddy, please," Usagi replied loftily. She turned to her brother, who was sitting on the couch with his arms crossed in the spitting image of his rifle-toting father and said, "Shingo, open the one Mamoru gave you."

Shingo muttered something along the lines of "I'm not a little kid anymore, I don't see why I have to sit through this nonsense" and shot a pointed glare at Mamoru, 

who stared hard back. Dealing with his father-in-law was one thing, but he could at least preserve a shred of dignity and deal with a menacing kid brother…right?

"Whatever," Usagi retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Don't sit there looking so innocent, mister," Kenji cut in, looking purposefully at anyone and anything in the room but Mamoru.

"I think I'll get some tea for us all," Ikuko-Mama trilled in a ringing voice.

"Don't change the subject, Mama," Kenji snapped.

Ikuko turned sharply in her seat, her bright blue eyes alight with a dangerous fire that made even Kenji shrink under her penetrating gaze.

"_Who's_ changing the subject?" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

"You gave him…_those_," Kenji almost whined, pointing at the woolen socks dangling from Mamoru's hands.

"And?"

"And…" Kenji whispered in a voice that nonetheless carried throughout the room, "And you know what _those_ mean."

"So what?" she demanded again.

"And…and he's not!" he complained, sounding comically like a child trying to persuade a parent to buy them a new toy.

"Oh, please, Kenji," Ikuko-Mama snapped impatiently, turning to Mamoru with a benevolent smile. "He's as much a part of our family as anyone could ever be. Our Usa-chan loves him, and that's what counts."

Kenji made an unintelligible reply.

"Mamoru-chan, dear," Ikuko said, and Mamoru, who had been preoccupied considering whether or not self-defense warranted knocking out his newly-acquired father-in-law, looked up. "I want to let you know that you're welcome to our family."

"Th-thank you, Ikuko-Mama."

"Say it again, boy," Kenji growled from his spot on the couch. Ikuko silenced her husband with a fierce look, then turned back to Mamoru with a kind smile.

"I think somebody is forgetting the time when _he_ received the wool socks."

"What do you mean, Mama?" Usagi asked, looking up curiously from the silver-wrapped box in her hands.

"What I mean," her mother said, raising an eyebrow at Kenji, who had become mysteriously preoccupied with the tie from his children that he had previously shown no interest in whatsoever, "is that your father went through the same dilemma twenty-three Christmases ago."

"No way!" Usagi and Shingo exclaimed at the same time.

"Did not," Kenji muttered, picking at the loose threads on the cuff of his shirt.

"Yes," Mama continued, smiling reminiscently. "It was our first Christmas as newlyweds, and we decided to spend it at my mother's house."

Kenji harrumphed, but did not say anything.

"When we got married, my mother swore that she would only knit for the man that she felt truly deserved my love. That Christmas, we all sat around the Christmas tree just like we are right now, and opened presents.

"By the time Kenji had opened every single one of his presents, there was not a single knit item in the boxes to be found. He thought that that meant that the family—my family, had not accepted him."

A dreamy look crossed Ikuko-Mama's face as she went on with her story.

"And that was when Kenji fell to his knees in front of my parents, in front of every person that ever shared even a drop of blood with my family, and begged to know what he had done to not earn their respect."

"And then?" Usagi asked in an awed voice, looking between her father and her mother with wide eyes.

"After ten minutes of confessions of his love for me, their daughter, he took me by the hands…and kissed me, right there in our living room."

"Papa, you sap!" Shingo protested, looking both horrified and impressed at the same time.

Ikuko-Mama shot her husband a meaningful look and continued, "Then my mother, who had listened to all of these professions without once moving, reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a pair of woolen socks, and gave them to Kenji, saying, 'Take care of my daughter, Kenji-chan.'"

"Wow…that's so romantic!" Usagi exclaimed, grasping Mamoru's hand without thinking. Kenji coughed. "Papa, I didn't know you did all that to earn Mama's family's love!"

"In a manner of speaking," Kenji said gruffly, looking embarrassed.

There was a moment of silence, before Usagi said, "So…Papa?"

"Hrm?"

"Does this mean…"

"Will you allow me to make your daughter the happiest woman on Earth for the rest of her life, Kenji-san?" Mamoru suddenly cut in, standing up and looking straight at his father-in-law.

Kenji surveyed Mamoru for a second, then turned his head pointedly away from him and muttered in a gruff voice, "Call me 'Papa.'"

Usagi squealed, Ikuko-Mama beamed, Shingo gagged, and Mamoru—the newest member of the Tsukino family—took his wife by the hand and stood in front of his father-in-law.

"Thank you, Kenji-Papa," he murmured, bowing.

All he got in reply was a half-hearted growl, but it was the most welcoming growl Mamoru had ever heard in his life.

* * *

It's kind of interesting how I'm typing this, and I'm virtually blind in one eye so the letters are doing a little jig in front of me right now. I put on my contacts last night (I have gas perms, which correct your vision in the nighttime so you don't have to wear glasses or contacts in the daytime) and had this weird pseudo-dream about taking out my right contact because it was bothering me...and when I woke up, I didn't have my right contact on! Luckily for me, I found it on my bed, but honestly...I need to get better dreams. -makes face-

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it, and please drop me a note!

ala underscore verity at yahoo dot com (Stupid FFnet...)


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